Rabbit got back into the driver’s seat. These small town folk sure are chatty, he said. You would not believe the website stories she was telling me. He started the engine. All right, kids. We’ve got a couple hours to go. Who wants to hear my latest song about mulesing? I do! Q said, hoping it would help her chances and kill her appetite. The last ten miles were slower than running Zombocalypse III on a P166.

The dirt road gave way to a fire trail full of potholes, which the Yowie bus navigated at a slow trundle. Despite the constant bumping, Pious Kate still slumbered on Q’s shoulder. Rabbit stopped the bus. We’re here, he said. Are you sure? said Angela. There’s no street lights, said the Scarlet Terror. There’s no street, said Angela. All they could see in the beam of the headlights were half-a-dozen wooden huts scattered among the trees.

Rabbit cut the engine and the headlights and left them blind. They heard a chilling noise, like the moan of some soulless creature shunned by God and nature and doomed to roam the earth until the end of days. Q flicked on a torch to find Tinkabella yawning in the back seat of the bus. Wow, said Rabbit. You got that torch out fast. Yeah, said Q. Would you think it weird if I said I website always keep my head torch and survival tin in my first-line bomb-burst gear? Nope, said Rabbit, because I have no idea what that means. Let’s go.

They piled out of the Yowie bus, shivering, grumbling and stepping on one another’s toes. Hello? Angela called. Is anyone there? Darkness swallowed her words. I can’t see the other van, Tinkabella said. We could call, said Q. Maybe they got lost. They won’t have a phone, said Rabbit. We’re on retreat.

There’s a light up there, Q said, pointing to a cabin half a mile up the slope. It was an eerie construction, dwarfing the pale trees around it. There’s not much of a track though. We’ll have to bash it. Rabbit, Angela and Q were volunteered to check out the cabin while the others stayed by the bus, except for Pious Kate, who remained asleep inside it. They fought their way up the hill through the scrub. When they were a hundred feet away from the cabin, Q worked out why it looked so strange. It’s got an upstairs level, she said.

A personal trainer winnipeg gas lamp

Why would anyone build two stories out here? To keep their distance from the bodies in the basement? Angela said, puffing. Anyone who chooses to live out here cannot be trusted. What is this place? Q said from her position in the lead. A piece of paradise, Rabbit said. Off the grid, out of range and in the bush. Two days’ stumble from the nearest population center, next to a creek and bang in the middle of a mountain range, Q said, piecing together the terrain they’d driven through. Amazing biodiversity, Rabbit said. They’re still discovering prehistoric plants in here.

Good hunting, poor access and a secure water source, Q said. It’s perfect, they said in unison. Guys? Angela cut in. They had arrived at the cabin and they were not alone. A man stood inside, silhouetted against the window. He was enormous, at least six-foot-four and almost as broad, with a huge belly. He held something long and thin. Q couldn’t see it clearly.

The light went out and the man disappeared. What’s he holding? Angela said. A club? A gun? Q motioned the others to be quiet, switched off her head torch website and tried to restore her night vision. She heard the soft steps of a large man walking quietly. She crept into an intercept position and dropped to the ground to wait. Or maybe it’s the shin bone from something he wooed, killed and ate? Angela said.